The Privilege of Love
by M. L. Zhang
Summary: What if during the ballroom scene when Henry learns the truth, Danielle didn't get the chance to run away? Instead, King Francis charges her on impersonating the nobility and sentences her to prison and possibly death. Will Henry overlook class & save her? But with Henry's impending marriage to the Princess of Spain proceeding as planned, will he save their love in time?
1. Unveiled Deception

Hello everyone! It has been a very long time since I have written a fanfic—life and school have been so hectic. But, I got the idea to write a story from a role-play I did awhile ago. Please let me know what you think- and enjoy.

P.S. I just edited this chapter since putting it up here yesterday—just added a bit more detail.

_A/N:_ Edited the chapter title and the whole first chapter to read more fluidly; also added more description and detail. _May 26, 2013._

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not have any rights to the film, _Ever After_, however my thoughts and ideas are my own. The title is a working title, it may change. By the way, I've changed the spelling of Henry's name to that of the French spelling. I hope it doesn't confuse anyone—but I thought it'd be a nice touch, since the story is set in France ;)

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **M. L. Zhang

**Chapter 1: **_Unveiled Deception_

The flute and lute music that had been embracing the jovial celebration slowly came to a cease, and all the courtiers stopped dancing to gaze upon the suspenseful spectacle which included the sought after handsome prince. A glittering wing lay broken on the ground and the bearer stood trembling with apprehension. All eyes rested upon the young couple, as a precedent in their nation's history played out before them as if they were spectators at the theatre watching the climax in a tragic play.

"But, I can explain…" the young woman's voice was soft and pleading, begging to be heard and understood. If only she could get them to understand why she did what she did, perhaps it all may be alright in the end.

"Well, somebody had better!" King Francis stood from his throne and glared down at them all with his thick arms folded across his broad chest. When he was angry, all received his wrath. The king's baritone voice boomed throughout the open space, resonating with his demanding presence.

The whole palace courtyard was full of courtiers in their elegant gowns and suits, as well as their masquerade costumes. There had been an ethereal atmosphere with the many softly glowing torches stationed around the perimeter of the yard, the light music, and the starry heavens shining down upon the kingdom. Tonight Henri would have announced to the court his intentions to marry Danielle, or as he believed, Nicole. However, Baroness Rodmilla de Ghent could not keep herself from interfering in other people's affairs—especially when in her mind it may benefit herself and her daughters.

"She is a servant! She's been a servant in my household for the last ten years." Rodmilla yelled with a deliberate smug smirk on her lips, breaking the hush that had gripped everyone. Her eyes shone with mischievous plotting and a deep-set root of jealousy.

Danielle held Henri's hand more tightly now not wanting to lose him—as if the invisible ribbon that bound them together may be snipped at any moment, never to be mended once cut. She rubbed her fingers against his, wanting to absorb the feel of him before she might lose Henri forever. Their eyes met, Henri's questioning and Danielle's pleading—just needing to tell her side of events; the only version that should matter.

"Is this true …Nicole?" Henri's voice tinged with hope that it was not so.

Sadly, with tears threatening to spill from her eyes she nodded and spoke while trying her best to suppress her sobs, "Comtesse Nicole de Lancre was my mother… my name is Danielle de Barbarac … I am what she says…." After the last word she could not hold back any longer and let out a sob, knowing already from the look in his eyes she was losing him.

Henri's eyes widen as he stares at her and then, most significantly of silent gestures, his hand slips from hers, as if this little unconscious action was the finality of anything that could exist between them. That the invisible ribbon that held them together had finally been severed and nothing could mend it.

"It was you…. The girl with the apple… all along…" He whispered to himself, trying to put the missing links together.

"What's this Henri...a commoner?.. You better explain yourself!" King Francis thundered, his arms folded across his chest in anger. It was entirely inappropriate for the Crown Prince of France to be cavorting with a lowly common country peasant.

"There is nothing more to explain Father… this woman in front of me is nothing more than a commoner and someone I horribly mistook for another." Henri replied, his countenance suddenly cold toward Danielle.

"But, Henri…" Danielle pleaded.

The nobles all gasped at this complete lack of etiquette.

"Madame… you will not address me so informal. I am a Prince of France… and you are nothing more than one of them!" He spat at her and indicated the common folk and gypsies he had invited to the ball just for her.

Tears filled her eyes and freely spilled down her cheeks, smearing the makeup which magically had transformed her into a glittering angel. She was about to turn and run from the scene, when Francis nodded and two guards blocked her exit, forcing Danielle to remain.

"So, then you have lied to and deceived the dauphin of France!" King Francis accused her.

Danielle's sorrowful eyes seem to hold a glimpse of fear now for what Their Majesties might do to her. Rodmilla then stepped forward and answered for her, "Yes, Your Majesty, she has lied to you the whole time. She has been a sneaking, conniving little witch of whom I am embarrassed to call family."

Queen Marie's eyes fixed on Rodmilla, "Then have you not also lied to me, when you told me that you knew the Comtesse Nicole was your cousin and staying with you?" Her eyes narrowed at the Baroness, waiting to see what possible reason she could have. A mother's protective instincts coming to the forefront; she greatly disliked anyone taking advantage of her son or deceiving her family.

Rodmilla shook her head, "Not entirely, Your Majesty… as there really was a lady named Nicole de Lancre and she does _'rest'_ at our manor."

Before Marie could question her further, Francis was more concerned with the issue of a commoner posing as nobility. "Danielle…. You are henceforth sentenced to the prisons on grounds of impersonating nobility, deceiving the royal family, and for filling my son's head with nonsense notions…where you will stay until we decide your fate." Francis could not ignore the changes Danielle had created in Henri such as inviting gypsies to a royal ball, suddenly wanting to open a university to people of all stations, and with the largest library in the country.

A sob broke out from the young woman and before she could resist, the two guards took her by the arms and led her away. Her one angel wing bent and flopping helplessly, mirroring the feelings of its wearer. Her eyes stayed focused on Henri, hoping he'd somehow overcome the truth and save her. She hoped that their love was strong and could transcend the constraints of the social hierarchy. But, to add to her bitter sadness, he only stood there with a cold and distant expression on his handsome face and watched silently as they dragged her away.

When Danielle was gone from the courtyard, Henri turned and left as well, and walked out up onto a terrace. He could not stand to be in the presence of others at the moment, his emotions were too many and too jumbled that he needed his solitude.

Queen Marie looked to Rodmilla, "I'll deal with you later, Baroness, rest assured." Rodmilla nodded, bowed, and then returned to her place in line next to her daughters. Marguerite was looking rather triumphant despite the royal warning to her mother. Jacqueline, however, appeared sad for her step-sister and expressed no interest in her mother's or sister's plights.

This was not a suitable air for a ball which was meant to be festive, and Francis turned to the orchestra and waved his hand in a fluid movement, "Continue!" The music struck up once more in the tone of a lively waltz and the courtiers began dancing once more. Francis needed the musical diversion to have some time to himself to think. Francis turned to Marie as they both sat back down on their thrones, "Can you fathom it all? Henri with a commoner?" It still boggled his mind.

Marie shook her head, "No … I cannot. But then again… you cannot control who you fall in love with." She was indicating more than just the spark of love between Henri and Danielle.

Francis caught the insinuation, "I really do wish that after all these years you would've dropped that issue, dear."

Marie nodded, "Yes, Francis." She said, though the issue was not forgotten for Marie.

* * *

Meanwhile, Henri was leaning against the stone railing of the terrace balcony just off from the courtyard. His arms folded and his head tilted up towards the night sky; eyes closed and breathing deeply, trying to get a grasp on his feelings. A steady, cold rain had begun to fall from the thick, dark gray clouds overhead. Thoughts of this evening ran through his mind and he still could not believe all that had transpired.

"I should go after her… I love her..." He said to himself, "No... I don't know Danielle… she lied to me… I know a Nicole that does not exist." He argued with himself.

Just then Leonardo Da Vinci walked up to him and placed a glass slipper on the ledge beside Henri, "You cannot control fate, boy." He said, "Just as much as you cannot control your heart. Go after her. She is your match in every way." He tried to impart his knowledge that only age can bring.

He shook his head, "I cannot… she is but a commoner and I a prince…"

Leonardo frowned, "If you cannot see past that, then you don't deserve her." He replied and then left Henri with his thoughts, staring down at Danielle's exquisite slipper.

Henri looked to wear Leonardo had just been standing and then back down at the shoe which was glittering while reflecting the drops of rain. He blinked his eyes repeatedly and pursed his lips, willing himself not to cry. In a soft, heartbroken voice he spoke to the shoe as a substitute for Danielle.

"You deceived me…. How can I trust anything you tell me now?"

* * *

Deep down in the castle's prisons, some many flights of stairs below the main stone floor, Danielle sat on a mound of straw in the corner of her cell. There was a small window high up in the stone wall with iron bars so that it couldn't be reached. And a small mat sat on the floor against one wall that served as a bed.

She huddled with her knees drawn into her chest, her chin resting on her knees as she let her heart pour out through her eyes in the form of salty tears. Still wearing her mother's wedding gown, one glass slipper, and the one butterfly wing she still had on after Rodmilla ripped the other off. She appeared to be a sad, fallen angel. Danielle really thought that he would have listened to her, that their love was stronger than this. The distinction of social class must really weigh more heavily for him than she had thought.

This was not how she had imagined this evening playing out. Of course, she had been apprehensive about showing up at the ball; scared of how Henri would take the news when she pulled him aside to reveal the truth to him. But he never gave her the opportunity to speak when she had told him there was something she really needed to tell him. He had simply told her that it could wait… whatever it was.

_Well… you lied to me too Henri… You told me whatever it was that I needed to tell you could wait. But, you did not mean it, or else you would have stood by me tonight… _Danielle bitterly said to herself.

"What am I to do?" She whispered to herself. Everything seemed so dark to her. In just one night she had lost everything—her home, her friends, and the one man she truly loves. The dark, dank cell was a perfect visualization of her innermost feelings at the moment. And the eerie moonlight that spilled across the floor only added light onto what lay before her—a lifetime in prison or more dreadful yet, the executioner's block.

* * *

There will be more—and I do have a plot outline, but I'd just like to post something first to see if any of you out there like it. Thanks!


	2. Royal Obligations

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own the movie Ever After in any way. This story is just a product of inspiration drawing from the themes and characters in the movie. I have taken liberties with European history as well._

_**A/N: **_** Edited **chapter to read more fluidly and with more detail on _June 2, 2013._

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **M.L. Zhang

**Chapter 2****: **_Royal Obligations_

The still night gave way to the wee hours of the morn, with the melodies of larks singing in the oak trees. The rain had ceased pouring down hours ago and the aroma of damp earth still hung in the air as well as a misty fog among the rolling hills. It was almost as if the earth cleansed itself after the previous night's horrid events had tainted the atmosphere.

Down in the castle prison, Danielle was huddled up in the corner, still asleep with tear-stained cheeks from having fallen asleep crying. Her body was shivering a bit, due to the cool temperatures of the prison and the lack of a blanket in the cell, for a threadbare rag could hardly be considered a blanket, let alone a shawl at most. A little robin flew in through the barred window and landed in front of Danielle, singing a sweet song.

She awoke to look upon the bird, a piece of nature's beauty inside the cold, unfriendly atmosphere of man-made confinement. Smiling at the bird, for it was a reminder of what could be beautiful in this world when everything around appears so bleak.

Having no one else to converse with, she spoke to the robin as if addressing a friend. "What can I do? I only impersonated nobility to save a man's life, and now I face a lifetime in here or death…"

The bird quirked it head and chirped as if in response and Danielle continued her conversational thoughts, "I was going to explain everything, tell Henri the truth, but he wouldn't listen to me. He kept telling me it could wait." She let out a sigh and blinked back tears, "He was not supposed to find out that way… If only there were a way to get him to listen, perhaps then he may be able to overlook what I did, and take it for what it was; saving a good man's life."

She sighed and tried to freshen herself up as best as possible without a hairbrush or any other such personal amenities, just relying on her fingers to comb through her long auburn hair. She licked her hand and wiped her face, trying to erase the dirt and tears as well as the memories of last night. A little jewel fell off into her palm from above her eyebrow. She looked down at the sparkling object which had aided in her transformation: a caterpillar had blossomed into a butterfly only now to be reduced to a plain moth. The sun was starting to shine through the mist and fell into the damp cell by way of the small high window with dust particles floating in the shaft of light, adding warmth to the space and light. It made the jewel in her hand sparkle more so and a small teardrop landed on it as Danielle clenched her hand into a fist around the object.

"I guess it all was just too good to be true." She whispered, more to herself then to the robin. "I dared to hope that one could change their stars… that a prince could truly love one such as me…"

* * *

"Henri!" Francis's voice thundered through the palace corridors, and sent servants scrambling to find safety away from the rampaging king.

King Francis barged into Henri's room to find the sheets from his bed tied together from the bedpost and draped out the window. "Not again!" Francis lamented, "I thought we were through with this."

Queen Marie entered the room and looked to the window and then to Francis, "What is it, Francis?"

He indicated the sheets and then the window, "He's done it again, that boy. When will he grow up?"

"Probably when he feels he has some choice in his life, dear…" Marie responded. '_Which would make him feel more like an adult if he was able to have some control over his own life' _she added to herself.

* * *

"Hyah!" Henri yelled as he kicked his black stallion to gallop faster, as if more speed could push him further from his royal obligations. Trees and meadows flew past the two, as he sped across the earth, no destination in mind, only a desperate hope of escaping all he knows the dismal future to hold.

He came upon an open meadow by a large lake, the sun glittering on the water's surface like shards of diamonds. He dismounted his stallion patting him on the neck as he dropped the reigns, and sat in the warm, tall grass, leaning back with his head resting on his folded hands. Looking up towards the blue cloud speckled sky; thoughts of Danielle filled his mind.

"Ah… but why did you have to be born a commoner?" He lamented, images of her painted on the insides of his eyelids, as if he were having a conversation with her presently hidden in the shadows. "It all could have been so much simpler. So much happier."

"And it can't be now?" Another voice joined the conversation, a deeper, older accented male voice. Walking out from the shadows of the trees, Leonardo Da Vinci appeared with his white beard swaying slightly as he walked, twine from a kite in his hands, which he was rolling up; having retrieved his wooden flying machine from its crash dive into the thickets.

Henri sat up with a start, "Leonardo… you startled me." He said in his surprise.

"Pardon me, but I couldn't help but overhear your thoughts, Sire. Why can't it all be simple now? She is still the same woman you fell for, why should birth status weigh so heavily for you when you yourself run from your birthright?"

Henri scowled because he knew the old man was right and then he shrugged, "Who are you to speak of such matters, being an old, unmarried man?" He scoffed.

"I know that life without love is no life at all, Henri. Go see her…. Talk to her, it can all be worked out in due time."

"There is nothing to straighten out. She lied to me; she is nothing more than one of those deceiving gypsies and common folk."

"It sounds more to me that you're pride has been hurt and you can't handle a broken pride very well. She is not all to blame in this! She was coming to tell you the truth!" Leonardo exclaimed, hoping that volume would get through to him since reason was failing.

"And she failed to express it."

Leonardo shook his head, "And would you have listened had she the opportunity to tell you?"

His words echoed his mother's and he shook his head, "Of course…." Then he stopped, "No… how could I have been so deaf? She had said she had something to tell me, but I had said it could wait and brushed it aside."

Leonardo nodded, "Exactly, my boy… and you could go to the prison now and hear her out. Hear the truth from the lips of the one you love."

Henri shook his head, "It would be of no use… she is probably angry with me for not speaking up for her, defending her, and standing by her side." He thought of the ice cold gaze he had given to her as they dragged her away, "I was so cold and distant…. She could never forgive me."

"But you can make up for that now."

He shook his head, "She would not want to see me and I can't see her just yet. I still cannot yet get over the fact that she deceived me. How can I truly know if I know who she really is?"

"Best you lay that aside quickly, Your Highness, lest your opportunity passes you by."

Henri quirked an eyebrow, "Do you know something I do not, Sir?"

"All shall reveal itself in due course, rest assured." Henri hated his cryptic messages, wanting instead the plain detail instead of some riddle to sift through.

* * *

Later that week, after many days of thought and sneaking off to have time to think and ponder on his own—destiny took control of matters, taking the decisions straight out of Henri's hands. He had hesitated for too long.

The evening hung upon the earth, and the stars shone brightly in the black velvet sky above France. Fires lit on torches in sconces among the castle corridors illuminated the building in all its chambers. The inhabitants were all in their respective rooms, engaging in their evening ceremonies of relaxation.

All, except the immediate royal family. Henri, still dressed in his day attire of cream colored britches and an ornate navy blue doublet with gold embroidery, entered the throne room of the castle. At the end of the room sat his mother and father in their rich clothing on their thrones of semi-precious jewels and gold inlays. As much as they could be a loving family, at the moment familial gestures were absent and business attitudes filled the stiff air.

"You called for me Father, Mother?" Henri asked as he approached the dais and bowed before them as was custom.

His father, King Francis, nodded, "Aye, we have. Your mother and I have come to a mutual decision, Henri."

"And what is that?" He inquired though apprehensive as to what it might be.

"We have not taken this lightly and so we've given it much thought, and agree that it is in the best interests for us all." Henri waited on bated breath, "You will marry Señorita Infanta Gabriella Maria, Her Royal Highness of Spain, and seal our two kingdoms in alliance."

* * *

That's it for now. Hope everyone is still enjoying this story. Please review, as it is your reviews that keep the story going Thank you.


	3. Reconciliation

**Disclaimer:**I do not own the movie _Ever After _in any way. This story is just a product of my imagination based on the characters and themes present in the movie.

**A/N: **_Edited the chapter for more detail and fluidity on June 2, 2013._

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **M.L. Zhang

**Chapter 3: **_ Reconciliation_

His father's words seemed to echo and resound in his mind over and over again like an evil mantra. Almost like he couldn't believe what he had just heard. Was his father actually serious? Marriage to the princess of Spain? Henri shook his head and stared at his parents in disbelief, his arms folded across his chest in restrained anger.

"Best for us all?" He repeated his father's words. "I think you mean more like it is the best for you! Have you seriously considered my feelings on the matter?"

"Henri… please…" Marie tried to console her son, "Please place your own feelings aside and think of what is best for our kingdom."

He sighed; there was no talking to them. His parents were just too stubborn, his father mostly. "Like you did, Mother?" He shot back at her. "Have I no say in the matter? Why the Spanish princess, Father?"

Francis was reaching his breaking point and finally thundered at his son, "No! You do not. You have forfeited that luxury when you failed to choose your own bride by the night of the Masque, and so as per we agreed, the decision of your marriage is mine. It is our decree and my word is final! You will marry Gabriella in three weeks time! You know our laws and customs dictate that the Crown Prince marry a noblewoman of high birth and there being no eligible such maidens in the French court, Princess Gabriella is a suitable match. Besides, the King and Queen of Spain have become increasingly wealthy from their endeavors in the Americas. So, I imagine the dowry the Princess would bring would be quite substantial." Francis paused, considering all the wealth this union could bring his court. Then he regained his thoughts and snapped, "This discussion is now closed, you are dismissed, Henri!"

He waved his hand, physically dismissing his son. Henri was fuming. He glared at his parents, but especially his stubborn father, the source of his own inherited stubbornness. His parents sat on their gilded thrones in their finery his father looking down at him in anger and his mother in sadness. She understood quite well how her son was feeling at this moment, and she sadly could do nothing to help him. Henri threw one more glare at them, turned, and then stormed from the room; slamming the door closed behind himself.

"Agh... That boy is so stubborn!" his father said after Henri had left. "Why can't he just surrender to his crown?"

"Really dear… have you forgotten what you were like at his age?" Marie said and then hid a smile from him.

* * *

As he walked down the castle corridors towards his quarters he mumbled angrily to himself. "I can't believe mother is in agreement with this… Just the other week she was telling me that any choice was better than Spain!" He spat at his invisible audience seated before him to receive his venting. "Aah... If only Nicole…" He shook his head and corrected himself, "…Danielle … were not a commoner…" He lamented. "I wouldn't be in this fix right now. I would be happily married to her."

He shook his head again, trying to erase those ideas from his mind. But, however much he tried; she was a constant presence in his thoughts. He couldn't help but think of her, her sweet smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, and of her inner beauty and intellect that had him captivated from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. He found himself head over heels for her, but none of that mattered anymore. He sighed, "None of it matters…. For I waited too long, and now I've no more say in my future."

"Not like she'd take me back anyway..." He continued his chat with himself as he got nearer to his rooms. "I didn't listen to her when she tried to explain and worse yet … I did not come to her rescue. She probably never wants to see me again."

As Henri opened the door to his room, walking in, and closing it behind himself, he heard Leonardo's words again as if silently whispering and beckoning to him. "Go talk to her. Go make amends with her. You may be surprised."

He laughed as he started to unbutton his shirt, "Right… like talking will change anything now, old man!" He scoffed.

But, as he looked at his reflection in the mirror on his wall, he saw a glimmer of Danielle standing beside him, smiling, helping him remove his shirt and then folding it. The gesture was one of what a wife would do for her husband and just as instantly as he saw the mirage, she was gone. And he was left staring at himself, his shirt still only half unbuttoned.

Against his better judgment, he took this incident as a sign from above to speak with Danielle. He buttoned up his shirt, smoothed his hair, and then left his room and headed for the prison beneath the castle. It has been almost a fortnight since that fateful evening that placed Danielle under arrest. He combed his hair back with his fingers and straightened out his clothes as he briskly walked; wanting to look good for her since he hasn't seen her since that night.

He wondered how she was doing. He knew that no one would be happy and content while being confined to a prison cell and seeing no soul except for the prison guard who would drop off a tray of food once a day. But still, Henri hoped that she was still in good spirits, that her time in prison hadn't changed her bright personality for the worse.

* * *

The moon hung low on the horizon as the night had just begun to descend upon the earth. The sky was tinged with a deep cobalt blue hue that mixed with the impending darkness of night. Bright, small, luminous stars littered the heavens with their twinkling light; shedding their brilliance and the radiance of the moon through the barred window of Danielle's cell.

Danielle stood and looked up out through the window, seeing only half the moon and the stars shining brightly against the dark backdrop of the sky. Her hair was all tangled and her clothes were stained and the hem of her dress was a bit tattered. Unconsciously, she was shivering, and she held her arms across her chest, rubbing them, trying to give some kind of warmth to her cold body.

She turned to face the stone spiral staircase as she heard footsteps approaching in a hurried manner. She held her breath, frightened to see who would appear at the bottom of the stairs at such an hour. No one came down to the dungeons at this hour, and so she assumed bad news was to come to her.

Then the footsteps connected with an image and Danielle looked upon no other than Prince Henri, France's dauphin. She let out a gasp as her eyes widened to see him. He stopped in mid-step at the bottom of the stairs, a glow from the torch in it's sconce on the wall falling upon him as his eyes landed on her form. She walked up to the bars and looked at him in shock, "What are you doing here?" She asked in her soft voice with surprise.

He walked up closer to her cell and looked into her eyes, which seemed duller since last he saw her. "I came to see you…"

She half-laughed and rolled her eyes, "Seriously… why would you waste your time on me… a commoner…" She spat at him.

"Because I've missed you…" He said in plain truth, unprepared for her question.

Her eyes went wide upon hearing this confession. Secretly, she had missed him as well. She shook her head, "No… that can't be true. If you missed me, it would imply that you feel something for me. And since you didn't even blink or step forward to stop those guards from taking me here, you feel nothing for me."

Her words stung him. He hated himself for hurting her so. "That's not true. I love you, Danielle."

The fact that it was the first time he had called her by her real name didn't even register as she was too angry with him to care at the moment. She loved him, she knew that, but upon seeing him again, all her anger from that night came flooding back to her. "Maybe so… but if you really did love me why does class matter more for you? Are you sure you should even be conversing with me right now, a mere peasant?" She taunted, still hurt.

He understood her feelings. Why should she make this apology easy for him when he had been so callous to her beforehand? He nodded, "I can understand how you must feel, I did not step up and defend your honor. But… you did not speak to me in full honesty before. You deceived me! Led me to believe you a courtier... a comtesse no less!... gave me a false name, and then led me to believe that you were engaged to a Belgian!" He did not say it, but deep down, he believed it was not class that had mattered more to him, it was his hurt pride at her deceiving him that had caused him to act in the manner he did. And the lies that she spun made him believe he could not trust anything that she had told him.

"I was never engaged!" She yelled back, "My step-mother told you that lie, it was never true." Suddenly, she coughed, and turned her back to him to cover her mouth and try to stifle the deep cough that racked her lungs. Turning back to him, averting her eyes, embarrassed, and hoping he'd say nothing on the matter, she continued as if nothing had interrupted her. "And, first of all, you told me to give you any name. So, I gave you my mother's. But you… Your Highness… if you had loved me, I thought you would've at least fought for me; that you would have at least given me the opportunity to tell you in private. I had longed to tell you the truth. That day at the ruins at Amboise, I was so close to telling you. But you must understand, I was afraid to as well. I fell in love with you… I was so scared that if you knew the truth you wouldn't love me anymore." She said, now sadness seeping into her angered words.

His eyes widened as he heard her cough, making his heart bleed in sorrow. So, this is what prison has done for her, made her ill. He couldn't stand the sight of her sickened form. He longed to see her cheeks rosy once more, and a smile to play on her full lips. He nodded, "Ah… yes, I have forgotten, I did ask for any name. And, I sincerely apologize for not saving you, but at that moment, I was just too far-gone in my anger to do anything more than to look at you with contempt. You cannot imagine how angry I was to learn that you were not who you claimed to be. I believed that everything I knew about you was a lie as well. That the person I had come to love was not even real."

She shook her head, "No… everything about me was real. All that I deceived you in was my birth status and name." She sighed, and then leaned against the bars. "I was going to tell you all when I arrived at the ball. But, you hushed me and said that it could wait." A few tears silently trickled down her cheeks, running with the dirt that was on her face. "I only pretended to be a courtier to save a man's life. My step-mother, the Baroness de Ghent, had sold one of our servants, Maurice, to satisfy one of her debts and he was to be shipped off to the Americas. I couldn't see him go, not when his wife was still at our manor. We are all like family, we are all we have, Sire."

He listened to her words with a kinder ear now, finally receiving her side of the events. And he realized that he had been too hasty. She had noble intentions that led her to deceive him. "Then, why did you not tell me sooner?"

"Would you have even given me the light of day if you had known I was the same peasant girl with the apple?" She shook her head, "No, I don't think you would have. I had come to love you, and each moment I could spend with you was like a little piece of paradise for me. I didn't want to lose you …" And she almost said his name, but remembered her status and refrained from doing so.

"I understand everything now, and I am completely sorry I did not listen to you and give you the chance to explain, Danielle. I get carried away, most times, and tend not to hear what others say sometimes. I am so, so sorry. Will you forgive me, Danielle?" His eyes expressed his sincere feelings, and she could see that he was truly sorry and perhaps that same man she had fallen in love with still resided somewhere deep inside.

She nodded, "I forgive you, Your Highness…"

He smiled, "If you don't mind, the name's Henri…"

She smiled and softly giggled, he had returned to her. She saw once again in him the man she fell for. He no longer had that look of disgust of her status and lies in his eyes from that night. All she could see there in his beautiful brown eyes was his undying love for her. "Henri…" She said his name, which was like a lover's privilege in and of itself.

"My heart has belonged to you since the moment I saw you. I love you, and always will, Danielle. Is there still a place for me in your heart or have I lost you?"

A few more tears fell from her eyes now, but they were of joy instead of sorrow. She smiled and nodded, "Yes, there always will be; I love you and thus my heart is forever yours."

With both their anger aside and the ill air cleared away, she finally heard him saying her name. She smiled, closing her eyes, drinking in the sweet sound of her name floating on the sound of his handsome voice. "Say it again."

"I love you."

"No… my name."

He smiled and said lovingly, "Danielle."

She smiled and opened her eyes to look at him, as if seeing him for the first time again. The sound of her name on his lips was like nectar. But then she saw his face cover in sadness and worry, despair as well. She looked at him in alarm, "What is it, Henri?"

"I'm afraid we've reconciled too late."

She was confused now, "What do you mean? Why is it too late?" Being in the prison, she knew nothing of what was happening in the world above her.

"My father has taken matters into his own hands…" He looked into her concerned eyes, sensing distress. "In three weeks, I will have to marry the Princess of Spain."

* * *

That's all for now. I hope everyone still likes this story Please R&R, your reviews are most helpful and appreciated. And thank you to everyone who has corrected me on my use of 'guillotine' I shall be correcting that, as I wish to make this story as historically accurate as possible. If anyone sees another mistake like that again, please let me know. Thank you! Merci.


	4. Discontent in Spain

**Disclaimer:**** As always, I do not own the movie **_**Ever After **_**in any way! Also, sorry for the delay in updating. Au revoir and enjoy :D Oh, and I've changed the Spanish princess's name in this chapter to Gabriella, I think that was her name in the movie. If anyone can tell me, pls do :D Also, I've taken some liberties with Spanish history; I do not know for certain the power centers of Spain in this time period. I know Andalusia's fight for independence did not occur until 1641, however, to fit the story I've made it occur in the early 1500's.**

**A/N: **Edited the chapter to include more detail and to read more smoothly on _June 4, 2013_.

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **M.L. Zhang

**Chapter 4: **Discontent in Spain

Danielle peered deeply into Henri's intense brown eyes, searchingly, looking with the desperate hope that she had misheard him or even better, that he had not uttered those dismal words at all. They echoed faintly in her mind as if through a fog, "It's too late; I am to marry the Princess Gabriella of Spain in three weeks."

They clasped each other's hands through the cold wrought iron bars of her dank, frigid cell. Her small hands were freezing, but they were warming slowly from the heat of his. Henri brought their clasped hands upwards and he kissed her fingers and she his. Finally, Danielle spoke, while shaking her head in disbelief and utter sadness, "No… that cannot be… so soon?"

Henri nodded sadly, "Yes, I'm afraid it is so. My father is in need of a political alliance with Spain and he is settled on the arrangement." He paused, scoffing, "Not to mention my Father seems enthralled with the idea of Gabriella's rich dowry and any other benefits he can achieve by being in-laws with the Spanish crown." He paused once more, looking intently at her, drinking in the sight of her visage. Her deep brown hair tousled and half fallen in her eyes, the brown of her hair a stark contrast against the rather paleness of her fair complexion. Even in illness, she was just as alarmingly beautiful. He reached through the bars and gently pushed her hair back away from her eyes, his fingers caressing her face as he withdrew his hand. "Believe me Danielle when I say that I do not want to marry her. My heart is yours and yours alone." He smiled at her and gave her hands a loving squeeze to emphasize his feelings.

She smiled back at him warmly, with an echo of her smile in her sparkling chocolate brown eyes. She nodded, "I do believe you, and know that you will always have my heart." She paused, seemingly in deep thought suddenly. The light from the torch that Henri had brought down and placed in a sconce now flickered its yellow radiance around them, engulfing them in its warm glow. "Is there any way to stop this wedding?" Danielle asked hopefully.

Dejectedly, Henri shook his head, "I'm afraid not, as it's already been finalized. And though I'd love to declare you as my fiancée, my father would never allow our marriage."

Danielle nodded dejectedly, knowing it to be quite so, his father would never condone the betrothal of a crown prince and heir to France's throne to a common country servant.

At her desperately sad countenance at this Henri added determinedly, "I will think of some way to make you more acceptable in my Father's eyes!"

* * *

Down to the south of France and across the Pyrenees Mountains, in a land of rich, exotic culture and language, was another royal household emerged in familial disputes. This land with its warmer climate, beautiful landscapes, and breath-taking shores was a long held rival of the French court. At the capital of their province of Castile, the king and queen, and their youngest daughter of three, Gabriella, were heatedly discussing the arrangements of Gabriella's impending marriage to the French crown prince.

The king and queen in their rich garments of fine silks and jewels sat side by side on their gilded thrones. The king's being slightly larger and grander than the queen's, though equally beautiful in decoration. The Spanish queen, Catalina, wore a deep crimson gown with rubies and diamonds encrusted onto her bodice and a small coronet on her slightly graying brown hair. Next to her, her husband, King Carlos, was just as richly clad but in a pale yellow doublet and cream breeches with a crown on his gray hair. They both looked down at their youngest daughter from their seats up on the royal dais, Catalina's expression holding much more compassion than the king's.

"Gabriella, mi hija, I'm sorry, this is the end of the discussion, you will marry Prince Henri in three weeks!" Her mother said to her sternly, but understanding of the hurt it was causing her daughter.

She stood before her parents, wearing one of her finest gowns of gold with black lace-work embroidery. She was by far their most beautiful daughter; France would be getting their Spanish jewel. Gabriella was tall for her seventeen years of age, with a medium olive complexion, and silky, radiant black hair that fell to her waist. She had a look of sad determination on her pretty face as she argued, "But, I don't want to marry this man, father, mother. When I marry I want it to be for love."

Her father shook his head, "That is a luxury you can never have, daughter. You have to learn to put your country first. We are a wealthy nation, yes, but only recently so. Our country can benefit from alliance with France should we need their assistance against our struggles with England. I do not appreciate how that English King Henry has treated my Aunt Katherine, your great-aunt Gabriella, in his blind obsession to wed that harlot Boleyn. I will fight for my aunt, even if that means allying with France through you. You will marry him; I will hear no more of this."

Tears threatened to spill from her dark brown eyes as she pleaded with her parents, "Por favor, no…." It was all she had left to say in her defense, though she intensely despised being used as a pawn.

"Enough! Leave and think about how you can come to terms with this so that you will not disgrace us when you leave Spain to represent your country as the Princess of France."

Catalina mouthed silently to her daughter "I'm sorry, there is nothing more I can do." But her words of comfort were not soothing in the least to her daughter, as she abruptly turned her back to them and keeping her dignity, gracefully left the throne room.

Once outside the door, she made a run for it, wiping away the tears she could no longer hold back. She ran to the other end of the palace, and burst into the rooms of the Duke of Andalusia, Alejandro, who looked up from his desk with a look of shock and alarm in seeing Gabriella so distraught. Immediately he stood and rushed to her side, holding her in his arms and he looked searchingly into her eyes as if he could read her distress spelled out for him there. "What is it, querida?" He asked affectionately.

At the term of endearment she only cried harder and through her sobs she managed to get out, "I'm so sorry, my love… we can never be. My parents have just told me I am to marry Prince Henri of France."

His handsome features turned to a look of shock and dismay, shaking his head causing his bangs to sway rather attractively in front of his brown eyes. "No, we'll find a way… don't give up hope."

She shook her head, "There is no more hope, no more ways, no more pleading. My fate, and thus yours, is sealed. I am to marry the French prince, move far from you, and you, my love, will marry some Spanish noblewoman."

Alejandro did not much like the picture that she was painting before him and he told her so. "You paint a dismal picture, madam. One I cannot see becoming a reality, for the one I see includes you, sketched in beside me, at my castle in Malaga in winter, in summer at Seville. There is no France in this picture, no Frenchman, and no tears."

She leaned in against him, and let him engulf her in an embrace as she rested her head on his chest. "I so much prefer your painting. I do, really. And I wish it could be rendered into reality, but I am afraid to say it will not happen."

Alejandro looked like he was about to interject, but she cut him off. "It will not! Please do not keep telling me we'll find a way, because we won't and speaking of it is only making this all the more difficult for me. I do not want to go as it is. I do not want to marry, bed, and please a man I do not know, or quite truthfully, care to know. I do not want to live in a foreign land and be so far from my beloved Spain. But, there is nothing more we can do, mi amor, we must accept this."

He stood now, standing back from her, his hands on his hips as he stared at her in disbelief, anger creeping into his eyes. "I cannot accept this. I will not. I'll speak with your parents. Somehow, this can be fixed."

She shook her head, now mad at him. "Have you not heard a word I've said, Alejandro? They will not listen!"

"I will make them!" He shouted back at her.

She slumped down at the edge of his bed, all the fight taken out of her and made her weary. "I do not want to fight with you. All I'll say more is you can try. But I do not know what influence you think as Duke of Andalusia will get you against my parents, the King and Queen of Spain. My father is the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, a land upon which the sun never sets"

At that he smiled his mischievous smile at her, "I think you forget your geography and history, milady. My family is the second strongest in Spain to yours, we have a lot of pull and influence. Have you forgotten about the rebellion in the early years of this century? Roughly two decades ago in 1492 Columbus set sail on his first voyage, upon which he discovered the rich Americas. He sailed from my family's land in Andalusia from the small port town of Palos de la Fronterra with easy access to the open seas. Many people from Andalusia joined Columbus on his expeditions and this port was used exclusively to import goods discovered in the New World. This has made Andalusia extremely valuable, influential, and wealthy. Unfortunately when your father used most of this wealth to finance his wars, it led to Andalusia's fighting for their autonomy."

"I do not see how reminding my father of your region's rebellion could help us…" Gabriella said.

Alejandro smiled, "Think of it this way, wouldn't your father like to see the risk of Andalusia threatening to rebel as such again quenched? By your marriage to me he could solidify our regions into a content part of his kingdom."

Gabriella just smiled and shook her head, saying nothing and only hoping that his familial ties and ideas would be enough to help. Though secretly, she doubted it, and was already unhappily resigned to her unappealing fate as the future Queen of France.

* * *

Back in France, Henri had left the prisons and shortly later in the evening he returned to Danielle in her cell. The corridors were dark and uninviting in the limited light he was afforded form the torch he carried and the flickering rays of moonlight allowed in from the sparse windows. She was sitting in the corner of her cell, but when she heard and then saw him approach, she swiftly returned to the bars, to be nearer to him.

They smiled at each other at the sight of the other; happy once more to be in the presence of the one they loved. Henri smiled at her, though his heart ached to see her ill. "Here Danielle, I've brought you two blankets, some medicine, and a pillow. I hope it will do for now, I'm still working on trying to see how I can get you out of here."

He passed the items through the bars and she took them one by one and placed them down on the floor beside her. Taking one of the blankets into her hands, she studied the elaborate stitching pattern on the cover, and felt the soft, downy of the silky fabric. Then immediately she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders to get warm. It was obviously a rich item, and she looked up at him, bewildered, "Your parents gave permission for you to give me these things?" She asked.

He shook his head sadly, "No, I asked, but my father denied me. He is still very upset about the whole matter. I paid an apothecary for the herbs and then again for his silence. The bedding is my own, it should keep you warm."

"Thank you, Henri." She smiled at him, and then as if it just dawned on her, she looked up at him, "But, if these are yours, won't you be cold tonight?"

He smiled, her concern touching and validating of her love for him. "Don't worry, I have another set. Do not worry about anything, concentrate on getting well and I will concentrate on how to get us of this predicament." Then in a whisper, as if to himself, he muttered, "This was not the way it was supposed to be."

She had heard him though, and nodded, responding just as softly. "I know." And she reached out through the bars and gently laid her hand on his arm. He looked down and placed his hand affectionately over hers.

"We've come too far; I will not lose you to the gallows, or to Spain. I promise you that, Danielle."

She nodded with a wan smile, "I believe you and trust in you. I leave my fate in your loving hands."

* * *

That's it for now. I wanted to write more, but I can't at the moment, and at least wanted to post something for now, since I haven't in a long time. I hope everyone is still enjoying this :D I'm enjoying writing this, especially taking a deeper look into the Princess of Spain's POV on the matter. Please Review, I love hearing feedback. :D


	5. The Hand of Death

Sorry all for the_**very**_long delay in updating! I hadn't realized it's been so long! I hope y'all are still interested though and are enjoying the story!

**A/N: **Edited the chapter for more detail and fluidity on _June 5, 2013_.

**Disclaimer:**_**Ever After does NOT in any way belong to me. And I am taking some liberties with Spanish history and royal lineage; I hope this does not offend anyone.**_

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **_M.L. Zhang_

**Chapter 5****: The Hand of Death**

The following morning was brimming with the promise of success for Alejandro as he woke early and dressed in his finest clothing of rich crimson silk doublet bedecked in jewels, britches, and brown handmade leather boots to impress. He was correct in saying that his family, the Archuletas, was second to the immediate royal family. In fact, the Archuleta family was wealthier than the royal family having benefited from explorers using their seaside ports and even could lay claim to the throne through an ancient lineage going back to medieval kings. However, to utter such things would be treason, so it was something that both parties never spoke of though both were highly aware of.

He strode up to the throne room confidently and was announced with proper title as he entered the immense long room and upon coming up to the imperial couple he bowed deeply and gracefully; showing his excellent noble upbringing. "You're Majesties."

Queen Catalina smiled kindly and bid him rise. "My Lord Andalucía, to what do we owe this honor?"

Alejandro stood erect and looked the queen in the eyes as he spoke with her. "I have just heard that your youngest daughter, the Princess Gabriella, is to be married to the Prince of France. I would like to hear from your lips if my ears deceive me in this."

Catalina nodded and was about to reply when the King, Carlos, answered for her. "No, you heard correctly." Not bothering to elaborate any further since the matter was a closed case to him.

Alejandro nodded, thinking his word choice through before speaking. "I see… Then I will proceed to the real reason I request a consult with Your Majesties this fine morning. I implore Your Majesties to reconsider your decision on the matter, most humbly." His voice was sincere but sounded pained, as if he were holding back anguish or anger.

Carlos shook his head with determination and replied sternly with deep-set conviction in his words, "Absolutely not. I've made my decision and the arrangements have been finalized." It was quite apparent that there was nothing that could be said to change the King's mind.

Alejandro sighed lightly as he was becoming slightly exasperated with the King's stubbornness. "But why Gabriella? Is not Esperanza just as good a candidate to marry the French prince instead?" He was referring to Gabriella's older sister, who was of twenty-one years of age.

The royal couple, Carlos and Catalina, had been blessed with fertility and five healthy living children; three daughters and two sons they loved very much. The oldest was Elena, aged twenty-four. At an early age, she had been sent to King Henry's court in England as a lady-in-waiting to his Spanish queen (and Carlos's aunt) Katherine. The queen greatly enjoyed conversing with her great-niece in her native tongue and so Elena brought the lonely queen some much welcome companionship. Elena also enjoyed getting to know her cousin, the young Princess Mary, and hoped she could break through her steely exterior and form a friendship with the lady. Princess Elena stayed in England, marrying the Duke of Essex's son and continues to live a comfortable life full of love. Her marriage to an English noble provided a sort of treaty between the two countries, at least through Queen Katherine while she was on the throne. The couple had already been gifted with an heir and recently Elena had written her parents with good news of her second pregnancy, from which she was secretly praying for a little girl.

Next was their oldest son, Phillip, who was twenty-three, and the heir to the throne, the Crown Prince of Spain. He was a kind young man, honest and strong; whom everyone believed would be a great ruler for Spain and the Empire. Next in the family line was the sister Alejandro was referring to, Esperanza. (Gabriella was next and youngest was their second son, Iñigo, whom Catalina called her "little one".)

Esperanza was twenty-one, and unmarried still, but not because of want of character. She was a quiet girl, though talkative and playful with those she felt most comfortable with. Compassionate and bold, a lover of horseback riding and archery and the outdoors. She would make any man happy, so it is a wonder she was not married.

"Yes, of course she is fine, but…. We have other plans for her though." He crossed his arms over his chest. "We decided on Gabriella, and King Francis has agreed. The matter is closed."

"Other plans? She is already twenty-one, she hasn't much time left." Alejandro spat. Though he liked Esperanza very much, he didn't mean to sound harsh about her, but he couldn't lose Gabriella to France.

"ENOUGH! What I do with my daughters is my business and my decision! Accept it and be gone!" Carlos thundered, having grown infuriated with Alejandro's presumptuousness.

Alejandro's and Gabriella's love had been a well kept secret at court. Though they had spent enormous amounts of time together through the years having spent much of their childhood playing together when Alejandro's family visited court, it was assumed that they were just very good friends. Indeed, that they only felt brotherly and sisterly affections towards one another. And only now in desperate hopes he let the secret go in hoping to have a chance of keeping his love in her native country- with him. "But, I love her and I cannot lose her!"

Both Carlos and Catalina stared, speechless at Alejandro as he burst out with this information which took them quite by surprise. However, when Carlos found his voice, he was cold and loathing. "Do you really believe that has any bearing on the matter? I don't care whether you love her or if she loves you- love has nothing to do with marriage. This is a political alliance, nothing more."

"Then you must care nothing at all for your daughter's happiness." Alejandro spat and left the room abruptly.

* * *

Alejandro returned to his rooms, where Gabriella was waiting for him. She heard the door open, standing she looked towards the door to see Alejandro walk in. Her hopeful gaze melted away when she saw his angered face. She rushed to him, embracing him and looking into his deep brown eyes imploringly, "What did my parents say?"

He shook his head, "I couldn't change their minds—you're fathers anyway. He's determined to have you married to Prince Henri. I even suggested Esperanza go in your place…. It achieved nothing though." He paused, "I may have let my anger get the best of me… the conversation did not end as I had hoped."

She stepped back, letting him go and sat at the edge of his bed. "You suggested my sister?" At which question he nodded and she continued. "They won't send Esperanza instead of me… they plan to have her marry a nobleman from the northwest- to unite that territory with our kingdom. And she won't go in my place either anyway, because she actually loves the man my parents want her to marry, so she's quite content."

Alejandro sighed and plunked down on the bed next to Gabriella. "I'm so sorry…. I really thought I could get them to change their minds."

She nodded and pat him on the back lovingly and then rested her head against his shoulder. "Don't worry… I know you tried your best."

"And I'm not giving up. If it comes down to it—we could elope! They can't marry you off when you're already married and the marriage consummated." At the last part he winked at her and kissed her.

She softly laughed and smiled at him then leaned into his kiss. "That sounds very tempting… but who could marry us here that would not know us and send word back to my parents?"

He pressed his lips together in thought, "Ah, good point, querida. Then, we shall have to go where no one knows us, now won't we. Or disguise ourselves in some way."

She snuggled against his chest, "I have always wanted to see the Germanic lands…" She hinted.

* * *

In the Loire valley, Henri was desperately trying to find ways of freeing Danielle from prison, as well as trying to find a way to change his father's mind. Since changing his father's opinion of Danielle weighed heavily in how he would sentence her. However, just as King Carlos was set on Gabriella marrying Henri, so was King Francis set on the arrangement. And to hurry matters more, Henri was running out of time, since the impending marriage was only about two weeks away now.

Down in the prisons of the castle, situations were proving to be just as dismal. Danielle now had the benefit of warm blankets and herbs to help ease her illness, however it was not enough. She was still lacking substantial nutrition to help strengthen her to fight off the ailment. And so, the herbs were not doing much good and her condition was worsening.

She stayed huddled in the blanket, her body shivering against the cold and damp that seeped in through the cold floor, though her body was burning with fever; evident from the beads of sweat on her forehead. Her bangs were damp and clung to her face. Danielle's coughing had also not improved and actually racked her lungs they were so deep. If she did not receive proper medical attention, it looked certain she may wither from this world soon.

In the afternoon, a couple of days after their last meeting, Prince Henri went down to the dungeons to give more herbs to Danielle as well as to check in on her. But he was horrified to see her in this progressed ill state. Seeing her in what appeared to be a sleeping or unconscious state, he rushed to the metal bars of her cell, falling to his knees he called out to her… "Danielle!"

She heard his familiar voice, but it sounded as if from far away. And all she could do was give a small moan in response. She felt too weak to do much of anything else. To see her like this made his heart ache; he couldn't stand seeing her so gravely ill. His own guilt causing Henri to feel even worse, as he believed it was his entire fault. "Hang on, I will be right back."

He ran from the prison and immediately sprinted for his father's council room. Flinging the double oak doors wide open, he barged in on a political meeting among Francis and his advisors. They all stopped talking and stared at Henri, wondering what could possibly be so important that he would disrupt them. Francis looked up as he leaned back in his chair, waving his son forward with a careless hand, abruptly and curtly asking, "What is it?"

"I need to know, what is your decision about Danielle?"

"The commoner?" Henri nodded though he despised this description of Danielle, and waited for him to answer his question. "I am not certain as of yet… I haven't decided. I have had more pressing items to think about."

"She is lying in the dungeon deathly sick! I want physicians to be sent to her and better food as well."

Francis shook his head, "She is a prisoner, Henri- a common prisoner."

"She is the woman I love! I will not see her die!" He shouted at his father.

King Francis sighed, "Whether you love her or not, you still cannot marry her. But if it makes you feel better, have some warm thick soup brought to her."

"She needs more than that. She needs proper care." He could not believe that his father was capable of being this cold-hearted! He could tell that he was not going to get anywhere with his father, so he proclaimed. "I'm taking her out of the cell and brought to my rooms. My physician will tend to her until she better. And by the time she is well again- you had better reach a decision about her fate. She cannot live much longer under threat of the gallows—it would wear on anyone."

Francis stood and stared, bewildered at his son to have the audacity to speak to him thusly. "You cannot do that! She is a prisoner—on grounds of treason! She is to stay in the dungeons!"

"No! She will not! If it makes you feel better you can station a guard outside my door." With that he left. He found the chief guardsman of security for the dungeons and forced him to open the bars on Danielle's cell. Picking up her lightweight frame, he carried her up to his apartments in the castle, rooms only the immediate royal family ever saw. Not that Danielle saw them anyway, as she was unconscious during the trip.

He laid her in his bed and sent a servant for the doctor. He brought a chair over to the side of the bed and held her hand, which was feverish to the touch. With his other hand, he brushed her bangs gently out of her face and lightly dabbed some cool water from a basin beside the bed onto her forehead. As he sat with her, he whispered to her, hoping she could hear him. "Hang on Danielle, don't leave me yet. I will find a way for us to be together. But I need you to stay here with me."

* * *

I will try to update soon! Please keep reading and reviewing! And I hope all is enjoying the story


	6. In Sickness

Again, I apologize for the _**extremely**_ long interval between chapters. I hope everyone is still enjoying this story and still interested in reading more of it. And a thank you goes out to my muse who gave me some much needed inspiration to continue writing this story.

**A/N: **_Chapter edited for more detail and plot enhancement on June 17, 2013._

**Disclaimer:**_**Ever After does NOT in any way belong to me. And I am taking some liberties with Spanish history and royal lineage; I hope this does not offend anyone.**_

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **M.L. Zhang

**Chapter 6****: In Sickness...**

Expensive fine silk gowns embellished with lace and ribbons, in various colors and styles, and their accessories were being folded into heavy dark wooden trunks. Servants whisked around the large room, packing all the princess' belongings that she would take with her to her new home abroad. Not only were they her seemingly ordinary everyday items, but they would become tokens of her homeland; to which she would never return. The early morning sun shone through the opening between the rich crimson velvet curtains also the open window allowed a gentle warm breeze upon which the scent of gardenias from the garden below floated. The sunshine created glinting reflections on the jewels set in her clothes and in her exquisite jewelry as they too were packed for the journey.

All the while, the princess could only sit at the edge of her large downy bed, one item that would not be going with her, with her hands folded together and brought to her lips as she silently cried as her resplendent life was stuffed into cold boxes. Usually she would enjoy this kind of activity, when it had meant that court was moving to another castle, or her family was going on a holiday, but this time it was for no such joyous occasion. Although a marriage should be an immensely joyful celebration, for her it was not so. Though her outward appearance suggested bitter melancholy, she was seething with rage inside at her parents who refused to release her from this marriage engagement.

She bared no malice towards her beloved Alejandro, as he had tried his utmost best to think of a way to curtail this impediment which separated them. King Carlos was not in the least swayed by Alejandro's persuasive argument that a marriage between himself and the Princess Gabriella could be just as advantageous as a marriage to France. His argument that their union could solidify relations between the crown and the region of Andalucía, though tempting to the monarch did not change the adamant king's mind. Gabriella had believed that he could magically discover a way that they could be together, however the only final option being to elope and consummate the marriage so it would be binding. And though it was sweetly enticing, she could not bring herself to disgrace her family in such a way. As well, she knew that if she had done so, she would have been disinherited most promptly. Not that she would have been left penniless, for Alejandro's family was quite wealthy. But, she wanted both their families to approve of their union; she did not feel right going behind their backs and against their wishes. Even though she was greatly upset with them, they were still her parents and she loved them very much. And so… she reconciled herself to a miserable life in France married to a man she did not love, nor would she ever let herself love, and a man who probably would not love her. For this fate she was assigned to she could only blame two people, her father and her future father-in-law. She would never forgive them for separating her from Alejandro for as long as she lived.

The following morning, to show her parents her dissatisfaction, she chose to wore a simple black gown for the start of her journey to her new home. There was black lace along the neckline which outlined the gold cross pendant she wore at her neck. Black lace in small bell sleeves at her elbows, and a gold square link chain belt around her waist. She did look stunningly beautiful, especially with her long dark brown hair pinned up into a braided up do and donned with a black fascinator and small black lace veil.

She emerged from the palace into the sunny courtyard, which was flanked with potted dwarf cypress trees and the courtyard walls donned climbing roses in various shades of red, she drank in the sweet aromas of Spain she would never breathe again. This thought made her breath catch in her throat and a tear come to her eye, which she fervently blinked back. Her parents were overseeing the loading of her luggage into the many carriages that would take her north. When they turned to see their youngest daughter approaching, her mother started to smile and then frowned as Gabriella came nearer, "I hope when you have reached France and meet your fiancé you choose to wear a more flattering color."

Gabriella gave her mother and father each a kiss on the cheek as she greeted them. "I am traveling to my own funeral, Mother, what other color is more appropriate for mourning than black?"

King Carlos scowled at his daughter, "Though you may detest this arrangement, do not forget that you are my daughter and that you represent Spain. Do not disgrace us with your immature insolent behavior. I expect you to be the graceful, disciplined, obedient, and charming princess you were raised to be. When I hear news of what is happening abroad, I want to hear that you are making Spain look great by becoming the dutiful future French queen that is expected of you."

_So that is my father's way of saying goodbye and that he'll miss me?_ Gabriella thought to herself. "How can I forget, father, when every day I am married to that French prince is a constant reminder? I will act the part of the dutiful wife that I must be, but know that I will be unhappy in my role every day for the only soul who holds my love and happiness is Alejandro." She paused and then added, "From whom you have taken me from."

She was assisted up the step and into a lavish carriage, which to her was more like a jailor's wagon leading her to prison. She chose the bench which allowed her to face the front and upon inspection she noted it would just be herself and a page boy traveling in her coach. She was not allowed to bring her servants or ladies; part of her acclimating to French society was to choose French servants and ladies upon her arrival. How she would miss the sound and comfort of conversing in her native Spanish?!

The carriage jostled forward and she watched in tearful silence as her home slowly faded from view. As the carriage rolled on along the road, she kept the curtain rolled up, so she could see everything including the scenery down to the lowly peasants working in their master's fields and burn into memory everything about Spain before she truly had to give it all up for a foreign land she could never love as much as her native Spain.

* * *

The air in the grandiose room smelled of incense, lavender, and chamomile drifting upwards from a large bronze bowl of burning herbs sitting on a small wooden table by a large four posted bed. The servant had promptly returned with the royal physician who was surprised to see a commoner in Prince Henri's bed, expecting to see Henri ill and lying there since these were his quarters and he had been summoned for the prince.

The physician just stood there dumbstruck, looking at Danielle. He was of thin build and medium height with silver long hair and a short white beard and compassionate pale blue eyes. He wore simple clothes even though with the salary of a court physician he could afford finer. Henri's voice was louder than he had meant it to be when he spoke and was in an irritated tone, "Well… exam her!"

Jean-Luc walked over to the bedside, pushing back a velvet forest green curtain and placed his bag of instruments and remedies at the edge of the bed. Danielle was sleeping, her lips parted and beads of sweat formed on her forehead from her high fever. Every so often she would start coughing, although it wouldn't wake her. The doctor stood over her, placing his hand on her forehead and indeed her skin was extremely warm. Though warm to the touch, she shivered as if deeply chilled. He untied the strings at the front of her shift to reveal her chest a little to discover large red rashes on her abdomen that appeared to be spreading. He checked her pulse and her breathing and while his face was near hers he heard her whisper, "Papa, but you just got home… do you have to leave so soon?"

The physician stood up and turned to look at Henri. "Do you know if the young lady's father lives nearby?"

Henri looked from Danielle to Jean-Luc, "He did, however her parents have passed on many years ago now. She has been living with her step-mother and step-sisters. Why do you ask?"

Hearing that information, the physician nodded, "Just as I suspected." He said more so to himself. _She's having deliriums of her past _he said to himself.

Henri looked concerned, "What is it?"

"She has typhus." The physician confirmed, "All the symptoms I've found point to it. And from what you told me of her conditions in the dungeons, that is likely where she contracted it. It is quite a common sickness among the prisons."

Henri tried to digest it all. Worried for Danielle, he asked "Is it curable?"

"I can administer some herbal potions and bloodletting to aid her in recovery." He paused, knowing the next bit of information the young prince will not like to hear. "However, the only cure is death. If she is to survive, it will be by her will to live." He said sadly, knowing that most often people did not recover from this disease by use of medicine.

Henri looked aghast at the news that death was so probable, a notion he would not accept. He nodded consent for Jean-Luc to immediately start treatment and the physician started to withdraw the implements from his bag he would need to withdraw all the ill humors in her blood with. For this procedure, Henri found he had to turn away until it was over as he could not tolerate seeing Danielle bleed if even to treat her ailment. When it was finished, the doctor gave Danielle her first dose of a tonic he prepared and instructed Henri how to mix it for the next dose. Packing up his bag, he walked over to Henri, "I've done all I can for now. We should know in a few days if her fever breaks, until then hope for the best. Keep the room filled with crushed flowers and lavender as well, it tends to help."

Henri patted him on the arm, "Thank you." The doctor gave a have smile of encouragement and then left the room.

Henri walked over to the bed and took Danielle's feverish hand in his, "I'm so sorry…" It was all he could say for awhile, feeling responsible and guilty that it was his fault she was so ill. "So…so… sorry."

Not caring about the risk of contagion, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her, "Please make it through, I cannot imagine my life without you." He smoothed her hair away from her face and fixed the covers about her. And he spent the night sitting in a chair by her bedside, keeping a watchful vigil until he too fell asleep.

In the morning, a servant softly knocked at the door, waking Henri. Stretching from his not so comfortable sleeping position in the chair, he then went to door. "I have a message from your father, the King."

Henri nodded for the man to continue, "We have received word that your betrothed has left Castile and is en route to France as we speak. She should arrive within a fortnight if there are no delays."

When the servant stopped speaking, Henri asked, "Is that all?"

The man nodded, "Aye it is, Sire."

"My father did not mention anything about his decision on Danielle's fate?"

"No, sir. He did not."

"So, my father still thinks I am going to abandon Danielle and marry this Spanish princess?" Henri said, though as if speaking to himself. "Well, you can tell my father I heard this news and I have no response to it, except the wish to know his decision about Danielle."

The servant nodded and left the room. King Francis will undoubtedly be upset with his reply, but Henri did not very much care. Just by having this news delivered to him, Henri knew his father was reiterating the signed marriage deal, that it was his fate to marry the Spanish princess. It was completely clear to him then that with any amount of imploring was not going to get his father to change his mind. So, he needed to seriously start thinking of a different route to break this arrangement with Spain and to make a marriage to Danielle possible. But, how could a marriage between a Crown Prince and a commoner ever be deemed acceptable?

* * *

Twilight was descending slowly upon the landscape of northern Spain and as the carriages paused to rest the horses, servants walked along the procession lighting the lamps hanging from the carriages. Gabriella sighed, as she watched from her window and the page boy opposite her watched her intently.

"Your Highness is something the matter?" he asked.

Gabriella turned her attention to the boy, though not acutely, as he was just a commoner and did not deserve her full attention, "Everything is the matter. I am being wed to a man I do not love, traveling to a country I have never been to before, and I have no one familiar to come with me." She said in an irritated tone to the boy, as if he had asked a very obvious and stupid question.

He nodded, "Forgive me; I thought there may have been something else in addition."

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what exactly he was implying, but she did not inquire. She was in no mood to converse about her sadly pathetic life to a common servant. A servant who seemed in an odd way vaguely familiar, however one who probably worked for her father and who most likely was told to fish something out of her and report back to her father when the caravan returned to Castile.

The cook brought her a tray of food and a flagon of wine for her supper, which she picked at as the procession started back on their journey northward. The darkening landscape echoed her mood perfectly and she stared out at the fields and woods as they passed by, wishing there was something she could to change her fate. Wishing for a little while that she was not a princess that she was as common as the boy sitting opposite her, so that she could have some sort of say or control over her life. It was a futile thought though, for she could not change the royal blood that flowed through her veins, so she wished she could then change her attitude about the situation. Accept it and find some kind of happiness and joy in what fate (and her father) has chosen for her. But, no matter how hard she tried, she could not find it in her to happily accept this marriage. She was doomed to live the rest of life in miserable unhappy circumstances, and she so much had longed for a blissful life…. in Andalucía,… with her beloved Alejandro.

She pushed her dinner tray to the other side of the bench and then turned her head so that her veil and hat shielded her face from view. Gabriella then let herself mourn for the loss of the wonderful life she had always dreamed of and would never get to have.

* * *

Remember to please review as I am most anxious to receive your feedback! I will try to update again soon!


	7. Pursuance of Acquittal

I know it's been a long time since my last chapter was posted in August, but I think I'm getting better since it's shorter than the last time and in the same year. Though again, I apologize for the delay. I hope there are still people out there enjoying this story—I have not received as many reviews recently and I would really appreciate the feedback. It is your reviews both praise and criticisms that keep me motivated to continue writing.

**A/N: **Chapter edited for additional detail and plot on _June 18, 2013._

**Disclaimer****: **_**I DO NOT own Ever After in any way. In addition, I have taken liberties with European history and royal lineages; I hope this does not offend. **_

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **M.L. Zhang

**Chapter 7****: Pursuance of Acquittal**

The late morning sun was bright and warm in the clear blue sky and peeked out from behind the towering mountains of the Pyrenees. Gabriella was continuing to pick at some grapes left over from her breakfast and silently wondering if the French had such fresh fruit or if it was yet another item she would have to relinquish. Even though she was aware the French made wine and that the process required grapes, she was searching for additional reasons to express her aversion for France. She had removed her black fascinator and veil and allowed the soft mountain breeze blowing in from the carriage window to cool her face. She inhaled the fresh air deeply allowing the scent of pine it carried to soothe her. They had been traveling for days now and still her attitude had not changed from one of bitter resignation to her unattractive fate.

A guard on horseback dressed in full Castilian military garb brought his gray Andalusian up alongside the carriage so he could converse with the Princess through the window. He was an attractive young man of muscular build a little older than the Princess with light brown hair, brown eyes, and a tanned complexion probably achieved from hours of guard duty in the hot Iberian sun.

"See those mountains just over yonder, Your Highness?" He asked her in his deep pleasant voice.

She looked to her left out the other window of the carriage to see irregular tall snow capped majestic peaks and then back to the guard. Her lips pursed she lowered her dark lashes a bit as she gave a slow slight nod.

"They're the Pyrenees. We've just crossed the border through the Aspe Pass and are now in France, my lady, in the Midi-Pyrenees region. Not far from Lourdes."

His words brought tears to her eyes and her bottom lip trembled. He probably thought it from joy or excitement that they were getting closer to their destination. But the realization of being on French soil made her incredibly sad and full of bitterness.

She nodded to him, averting her gaze and rapidly waving her hand she dismissed him. Once he was gone, she turned her gaze to the mountains, which she had to admit, were very beautiful and she reminded herself that as a natural border between her country and France they are half Spanish as if that was the reason for their beauty.

* * *

It has been a couple of days since the Royal Court Physician Jean-Luc had examined and diagnosed Danielle with Typhus. Henri was following his instructions down to the very last detail in mixing and administering the tonic, sponging her forehead to help break the fever, and doing his every best to ensure her comfort and speedy recovery.

Anxiety filled his every waking moment as he struggled to think of what else he could do to help her. There had been no signs of improvement in her condition, yet thankfully no signs she was worsening. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, dipping a strip of cloth into a metal bowl of water he was holding in his other hand and looking down at his beloved with sorrowful eyes. For a couple of hours every day he would pick up a copy of Niccolò Machiavelli's _The Prince_ and continuing reading aloud to Danielle from where he had left off from the previous day. It was written to give political advice to princes on how to best to rule their country and most unusually it was based on real experiences for the powerful Medici family of Florence. The work gave an austere account into the nature of princes and the sometimes immoral actions these great men would take to achieve their goals. Considered to be a very innovative and forward thinking work of the time, Henri was positive Danielle would enjoy it, though nothing could replace _Utopia_ in her heart. He hoped that his words were reaching her, that through her stupor she would find her way back through the fog of unconsciousness by following the sound of his voice.

He kept the curtains pulled back, allowing as much sunshine into the room as possible. Hoping the sun's caressing rays would bring Danielle back into the light and into good health. Henri had shirked his royal duties all these days, not resting or tending to himself. Always vigilantly by her side, wanting to be the first person she sees when she wakes from her fever. His father has sent many a servant with angry messages demanding Henri pay more attention to preparing for the wedding and taking responsibility for his title. Henri has ignored every command. Nothing could persuade him to leave Danielle. Nothing could entice him at all to aid in wedding preparations for a ceremony he was determined not to participate in.

Then there was a knock at his door…

Henri's servant opened the door to reveal a page boy and a young brunette woman. She was of average height, average beauty, and pale complexion with long dark brown hair which was pulled back into a black hair net. She was wearing a green and gold brocade gown with a white chemise that peeked through slits at her shoulders and elbows. When her eyes caught those of the Prince she immediately curtsied and the page boy then introduced her.

"The Lady Jacqueline de Ghent wishes an audience with His Highness the Prince and her step-sister Danielle."

Hearing her name, Henri now recognized the young lady as one of Danielle's step-sisters. He nodded to the servant allowing Jacqueline to enter. She walked into the room and the servant closed the door behind her, due to habit she curtsied again to Henri.

"Your Highness…" She bowed, "I wanted to see how my step-sister is doing. I received word that she had taken ill while in the dungeons and I am very concerned about her." Undoubtedly she heard word from Captain Laurent whom she has felt a growing fondness for since the masquerade ball.

Since the young lady appeared genuinely concerned for Danielle's well-being, otherwise she would not be here presently, Henri concluded that she must not feel the same way about her step-sister as her sister Marguerite does. He waved to her to come closer and then turned to indicate Danielle sleeping in his bed. Jacqueline went to stand at the bed and looked down at Danielle, her eyes became watery. Needing to know, she asked in a small voice, "What does she have?"

"Typhus." Henri answered softly.

Jacqueline shook her head sorrowfully, blinking back tears. "She does not deserve this. After all the ill treatment my mother and sister have put her through, now this…. She deserves some happiness."

"You do not feel the same way about Danielle as your mother and sister does…" His words were half statement and half questioning.

Jacqueline shook her head. "No. Your Highness." She paused, "My mother has been jealous of the place Danielle held in her father's heart since the very beginning. And my sister, well I never understand her rationale in tormenting Danielle … I think she longs for mother's approval and hurting Danielle made her feel superior. Myself… I admire Danielle. She's been put through so much and yet is still the kindest, gentlest, strongest person I know. If it had been allowed, I think we could have been good friends… real sisters."

Henri listened to Jacqueline intently as this was a firsthand account into the secrets of Danielle's life that she had hid from him. He waved to the servant to bring a chair over for Jacqueline who smiled and softly whispered her thanks to the young boy as she took her seat. Something most nobility would not think at all of doing.

"If it had been allowed?" Henri questioned and probed. Then added, "Please, if I have my way, we are practically family soon, call me Henri."

Jacqueline blushed to be allowed such informality, "Alright, Henri." She tested his name on her lips, which felt strange to address royalty thusly. "The day we arrived at the De Barbarac's Manor my new step-father introduced us to our new step-sister, Danielle, and it was very evident that father and daughter loved each other very much. As they had had only each other since Danielle's mother died. Sadly, the next day as he was leaving for business up north he suffered an attack on his heart. Danielle and my mother rushed to him as he fell from his horse. He took Danielle's hand instead of my mother's and whispered _'I love you'_ to her. My mother felt jilted and ever since then she took out her feelings of betrayal on Danielle since Auguste was not there. My mother took Danielle's grand room away from her, her fine clothes … everything… and made her a servant in her own home. My sister and I were no longer to treat Danielle as a sister, but as our servant."

Henri had been listening very intently, fascinated in learning about Danielle's past. Yet her story was touching and yet repulsing as well. He shook his head, "That's terrible! Completely awful to lose your father and the life you're used to."

Jacqueline nodded. "Not only relegated to being a servant, she was subjected to undue ill treatment and taunting. Only a month ago Marguerite made Danielle choose between her mother's wedding shoes or the book of _Utopia_ her father had given her the night before he died. When Danielle handed over the shoes, Marguerite still threw the book in the fire."

Henri thought back to the excursion he had taken to the monastery with Danielle and how she explained that her father would bring her books back from his travels and read to her at night and that _Utopia _was the last book he had given her. It had perfectly explained her attachment to the novel and why she quoted it so often. But to learn that Marguerite, knowing the significance of the book, was so evil that she destroyed Danielle's dearest link to her father was heart wrenching. "That's an appalling thing to do to someone." He looked down at Danielle fondly but sadly thinking about what her 'family' has put her through over the years.

Jacqueline nodded in agreement. "Danielle gave Marguerite a black eye though in the incident." Jacqueline said a little cheerfully. "Danielle can throw a good punch."

"She does posses great aim." Henri agreed, remembering the apple she had thrown at him.

"May I?" Jacqueline indicated the soaked cloth in the bowl to which Henri nodded. Jacqueline wrung it out and placed it on Danielle's forehead.

"My mother and sister are still waiting to receive sentencing from your parents for deceiving Her Majesty about the identity of Nicole de Lancret. It's a bit rewarding to see them on edge, unsure of what their punishment will be. They keep to themselves lately whispering and plotting, of course keeping me out of their discussions except to run errands for them related to their newest scheme. My mother is so engrossed in finding a way to bring herself and Marguerite back into Her Majesty's good graces that the care of the manor has fallen slack. I cannot see Danielle's beloved home, and mine as well, wither, so I have taken it upon myself to run the estate. Thank heavens for the help of Danielle's loyal friends, Paulette, Louise, Maurice, and Gustave, they have been extremely valuable. I promised Paulette that I would give news of Danielle's health when I return home, they are all so distraught and worried about her health and life. We have heard that she faces possible execution, and we sincerely hope she can be shown mercy.…" Jacqueline continued.

Henri nodded gravely, understanding the pain Danielle's friends are feeling and sharing the same hope of freeing Danielle from imprisonment. He was surprised though at her feelings towards her family, "You're happy about their impending punishment?" He asked surprised.

"A little, yes. Especially with Marguerite, she always received all the attention, always got her way, and always received the finer clothes and jewels. Mother's favorite. I dislike saying this about Mother, but they deserve whatever is coming to them. They brought it upon themselves."

Being his parent's only son and having a sister, Madeleine, as his only sibling, he did not know the effects of sibling rivalry firsthand. However, he could see from her words that Jacqueline had been the forgotten of the two siblings. "I imagine you have your reasons for feeling that way."

"I do. Well, I mean I was not treated like they treated Danielle, but I was not treated well either. My mother constantly makes sarcastic comments to me. And every effort is taken to make Marguerite more attractive and appealing while I am left on the side. Just recently too when Danielle had slept in one morning and Mother doled out punishment- I was told to boil water! Like a servant…." She paused, "It gave me a very small glimpse into how Danielle must have felt all these years."

Their conversation came to pause as they both looked down at Danielle who slept in feverish silence. They both seemed to wonder if even though asleep if Danielle had heard them talking about her past. Her hair along her face was wet with sweat and a few strands clung to her neck. Her lips were slightly parted and her head rested to the side, facing them. Both Henri and Jacqueline wished that she would open her eyes and her skin would cool back down to a normal temperature.

After a few minutes Henri finally broke the silence, "Danielle told me that Nicole de Lancret was her mother's name. Do you know anything about her?"

"About Danielle's mother?" Jacqueline repeated. She thought for a few minutes until she realized that she did not really know anything about her. She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I know she died shortly after Danielle was born and that her father raised her. I have never really asked Danielle about her life before we arrived in it. And if her father ever told my mother about her, she never said anything to us."

Jacqueline realized how selfish and uncaring that must have sounded to not even know anything about Danielle in the whole ten years they have lived together under the same roof. If... when… Danielle gets better Jacqueline promised herself that she would change that. No matter what her Mother says, she was determined to become closer to her step-sister.

Jacqueline looked to Henri and noticed how tired he seemed. She took the bowl of water from him and looked at him with kind eyes as she spoke. "Please, go get some rest. Get some fresh air and eat something. I will look after Danielle and should something change I will send for you immediately."

Henri was very hesitant to leave Danielle. Jacqueline softly nudged him in a sisterly fashion, "What good will you be to her when she wakes up if you are tired and hungry. Please, go take care of yourself for a bit. I have tended to Danielle before, I am trustworthy."

Henri could see only concern in Jacqueline and he believed her words. So finally he nodded and stood, stretching his legs and back. "Thank you, Jacqueline. Send for me _immediately _should her condition change."

"Of course.." Jacqueline responded and then watched as Henri left the room. She felt for him. He must be so drained, she thought, and feeling so helpless.

She looked back to her step-sister, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. She took the cloth off Danielle's forehead and placed it back in the cool water to soak. "If you can hear me Danielle, fight through this. We're not ready to let you go."

* * *

Henri went outside into the gardens to take a walk and stretch his legs. He breathed in the cool late afternoon air and realized Jacqueline had been right. He needed to get some air and take some time for himself. Some time to be alone and to think. If his calculations were correct, Princess Gabriella of Spain should arrive in three days. The wedding would take place two days after that. So, he had a total of only five more days to think of a plan to get out of this marriage and to find a way to make Danielle a suitable match in his father's eyes.

He walked along the hedgerows and into the rose garden arranged around a central ornate water fountain. He sat on a bench near a rose bush and closed his eyes, drinking in the heavy smell of the roses and listening to the calming sound of the water. He felt himself relax and for a little while all his anxieties melted away.

"Mmhmmm…" The sound as if someone was clearing their throat interrupted his peaceful meditation.

He opened his eyes to see his mother standing in front of him. "Henri… you look exhausted…"

"Mother…" He said with a start, and then nodded, "I am."

She felt sympathetic for her son. "I know you care deeply for the girl and I am in favor of a French bride over a Spanish one, but you know the law, Henri, you cannot marry her."

He sighed. _Not my mother too_ he thought. "I don't just 'care deeply' for Danielle, Mother, I love her and I will find a way to marry her. Has Father said anything to you about what he is planning to sentence her with? She cannot keep living under threat of life imprisonment or death. It's unhealthy."

"We had discussed her step-mother and sister, Baroness Rodmilla and her daughter, Marguerite. I will be commanding them to come to the castle soon for sentencing for having deceived me on the matter of Mademoiselle de Lancret. I have suggested stripping them of their titles and banishing them to the Americas." Queen Marie paused, unsure how her son would take the next bit of news, "Your father then suggested banishment to the Americas for Danielle as well."

Henri could not believe what he was hearing. "You don't seriously agree with that, Mother, do you?"

She pursed her lips a bit and looked uncomfortable. "No, of course not, dear. I think imprisonment, banishment, and death are all too harsh for the girl. But, she did impersonate nobility and deceive the royal family and that cannot go without consequences."

"What punishment would you think fitting then?" He was almost afraid to hear it.

"I think she has suffered enough waiting in the dungeons and catching typhus. I would consider the circumstances which caused her to commit the act and since they were noble, I would let her go. Since to me, she has done her time in jail and keeping her on the limb as your father is doing is not right."

He was surprised at his mother's sympathetic answer, "If only we could get Father to agree with us…"

"Yes, that will take some extraordinary effort, Henri. Your feelings for Danielle stir up forgotten memories, painful memories, which he would rather not remember."

This bit of revelation caused curiosity in Henri to come to the surface, "What kind of memories would those be?"

"Mostly concerning myself, and how he believes I have not remained faithful to him." She looked pained to reveal even this much to her son.

"What do you mean?" Henri was curious despite himself.

"I completely understand what you are going through right now Henri…" She paused, "It was arranged that I marry Prince Francis of France, as he was known then, and I did not want to marry your father … I was in love with a man below my station; such as you are with Danielle."

Henri could not believe what he was hearing, so alike were circumstances in this regard to his mother. However, if what his mother says is true and she did marry his father, obviously… then according to laws and tradition, was there truly no hope of marriage for him and Danielle?

* * *

I'll end here for now. Please keep reading and please review! The feedback would be most welcome and helpful! Merci.


	8. And in Health

One of my more prompt chapter updates. I hope y'all are still interested and still keep reading!

**A/N: **Edited for additional detail and plot on _June 19, 2013._

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own **_**Ever After **_**in any way. I strive for historical accuracy though I realize I have taken certain liberties with European History to fit the plot line.**

**The Privilege of Love**

**By: **M.L. Zhang

**Chapter 8: ****… And in Health…**

For the last three days Prince Henri has been occupied with nothing else except caring for Danielle and brainstorming ideas to break off his royal engagement to the Princess of Spain. Not that he even knew her to dislike her in any way that he would not want to marry her, but he refused to be his father's political pawn. Besides, another had already stolen his heart and he was determined to live his life with the one who held his heart so close to her own. He knew he was dearly running low on time though; as Princess Gabriella was due to arrive any day now. However, every reason he could think of, he also thought of a plausible counterpoint his father would argue. Likewise, all reasons he could suggest for Danielle being an acceptable match he could hear his father's voice telling him his case was not strong enough. King Francis was solely concentrated on the country's well-being by securing a marriage treaty with Spain and thus securing lands, trade, and times of peace and prosperity. It was proving difficult to defend a position combating his father's political foreign policy agenda.

It was early in the afternoon when Henri went back to his rooms after a brisk morning of releasing his frustrations in the form of riding his favorite bay mare across the grounds wooded acres. The crisp morning air was therapeutic and invigorating allowing for a meditation of sorts by forgetting about daily stresses and becoming one with nature for a short time. It had given him a chance to clear his head and refresh his thoughts before another round of searching for answers to his dilemmas. As he entered his rooms he was not prepared for the most pleasant surprise he was to receive in weeks…

Danielle was awake, sitting up in bed, and was smiling at him as he entered the room!

He paused in mid-step, his eyes on her, almost not believing what he was seeing. When Henri saw her laugh a little, the movement jostled him from his reverie to make him believe that her smiling form was not a mirage. What he had been praying for was finally becoming reality.

"Danielle!" He said in a breath of deep relief as he rushed to her. In a frenzy feeling her cool forehead which he had longed to finally feel its normal temperature. Then moving his hands to her cheeks, he brought her face to his and kissed her happily.

He remembered the physician's words that once her fever broke, she would be past the point of danger and on her way to recovery. He held her face in his hands, feeling her dry cool skin and seeing the clear focus in her chocolate eyes. Henri was ecstatic beyond all words that Danielle was still on this Earth with him; living held more purpose and motivation now.

"I have been so worried!" He told her as he finally released her face and stared into her kind gentle eyes. "I'm so relieved you're better."

Danielle had felt that she had been very ill, however during her sickness she had not been aware she was so close to death as Henri implied. "As am I… it was that serious?" She asked.

He took her hands in his, needing her lively touch. He nodded, "Yes, for awhile we were not sure you were going to pull through…"

Danielle thought about that, and then decided she needed to know. "What did I have… and where am I?" She did not remember being brought to such luxurious chambers, since she was already unconscious due to the fever when Henri brought her here. She took a quick glance around the room at the velvet bed curtains and silk curtains hanging from the tall windows to the left, the ornately carved dark wood furniture, and the decorative crown molding on the ceiling.

"Typhus…" Henri answered her. The gravity of her illness hit Danielle full on; she knew many people died from this highly contagious disease. She felt very lucky to have survived. "You're in my suite. My bed… Against my father's commands I brought you up out of the dungeons to my rooms. I had the Court Physician examine you and have been caring for you in here since then. I could not tolerate seeing you ill in the dungeons and I could not rely on my father to do something about it. Though as if you are a dangerous person, he placed a guard outside the door."

She was a little amazed and surprised at the lengths Henri took to care for her. It renewed her faith in his love for her. "Thank you, Henri." She smiled at him. "I owe my life to you."

"I owe mine to you, Danielle… for a life without love, a life without you in it, would not be worth living at all." Da Vinci's advice held so much truth for him now, and to think at the time he had scoffed at the old unmarried man whom Henri believed could not possibly know anything about matters of the heart.

She smiled, "I feel the same."

He then switched topics and said suddenly, "Oh… I cannot forget to mention, your step-sister, Jacqueline, visited you as well and helped tend to you. She was very worried about you and expressed how worried your friends at the manor are too. Her thoughtfulness, I'll admit, surprised me. I did not expect sympathy from any member of your family."

"She's very kind, always has been to me as much as she could be allowed under Rodmilla's eye. I will have to thank her. I'm sorry to have made you all so worried." She said sadly, not liking to upset others.

Henri shook his head, "It's alright, and it was not your fault. Besides, you're all better now."

"Do you know if my step-mother and Marguerite have faced Her Majesty's justice yet?" Danielle could remember the night of the Masquerade Ball as if it were last night and how her step-mother had sent her life into such turmoil since then all to try to advance her daughter into the royal family. She still could not loathe them, it was not in her nature, however, Danielle did wish to see due consequences fulfilled.

"Not as yet, however, I suspect very soon."

"I only hope Her Majesty bestows a fitting punishment for all the "kindness" they have shown me and the Queen."

"I'm sure my mother will be just and fair." Then suddenly thoughts of what his mother told him invaded his mind; remembering that she told him that his father was considering banishment to the Americas for Danielle. He desperately needed to avert that fate.

"What's the matter, Henri?" Danielle saw the dark change in his expression and was concerned.

Henri didn't want to worry Danielle about it right now. He just wanted her to concentrate on getting stronger. He shook the menacing thoughts from his mind and tried to offer her a reassuring smile, "Nothing … nothing at all."

Danielle let it go; however, she knew he was hiding something from her….

* * *

Late in the afternoon, as the sun was mid-way through its descent to give rise to the moon, a train of carriages were making their way to the royal court of France. The birds were giving their final serenades to the day before the crickets and nightingales started their evening concerts. The French Château de Chambord stood three stories tall built of bright white masonry façades with great corner bastion towers and turrets' flanking the main gate and it was seemingly massive against the flat terrain as it loomed into view. The blue roofline of the immense structure pierced the horizon with asymmetrical towers in varying styles with cupolas and gables so that the building appeared as it if it were a small city from a distance. In fact, this was the very intention King Francis had in mind when he commissioned his new residence: he wanted a palace with a similar roofline to that of the great city of Constantinople. Something so magnificent it was undoubtedly sure to impress the French people as well as foreign dignitaries.

Though Gabriella was still determined to show nothing but contempt for anything French, she could not help feel in awe of the castle's beauty and its immense presence it held on the landscape.

She called the guard over to the window of her carriage. "Can you tell me the region we are in now and the name of the castle ahead of us?"

"Of course, Your Highness, we are in the Loire Valley and the castle in view is your future home, the Royal Residence of France, the Château de Chambord. King Francis had it commissioned, can you believe it … with the assistance of architectural designs by Leonardo Da Vinci himself!"

She was impressed, though she refused to show it. "Where did the King live before?"

"At the castle d'Amboise. I have heard it was a splendid residence, though sadly it is left in ruins today all but forgotten."

"That is unfortunate." Gabriella responded, though her voice implied a sarcastic tone.

About an hour later the royal Spanish caravan arrived at the northern façade of Chambord. Sprawling well manicured lush green lawns and gardens bountiful with flowers in various shapes and colors led up to the palace. Upon closer inspection a moat ran along the front façade, though it looked like it continued around the building, it was purely for decoration. A remnant of old medieval design tied into the new and upcoming Renaissance styles.

Gabriella noted some animal carved into decorative circles in the masonry. She asked the guard, "What creature is that?"

"It is a salamander, Your Highness." The guard paused, "It is the personal emblem of King Francis."

"I see." Though Gabriella could not see why one would choose a lizard out of all possible animals as a personal emblem.

The carriages rode through the main gate into the courtyard and were greeted by servants waiting in lines to assist in unloading the carriages. At the head of the recession line was the King's Advisor and the Royal Chancellor who was responsible for foreign affairs and whose duty it was to ensure a warm welcome for the Spanish princess.

The guard whom Gabriella had occasionally conversed with along the journey approached her carriage and placed a step stool on the ground and then opened the carriage door. He offered his hand to assist her and she gracefully placed her hand on top of his and lithely descended from the carriage. Though she thoroughly wanted to disobey her mother, she had reluctantly heeded her advice and before arriving at the castle she had changed into a gown of a "more appropriate color". She wore a cream silk gown with long sleeves that had a small puff at the shoulder with a small ribbon bow underneath and then flowed down to long dagged flared sleeves and a neckline that showed off her shoulders. The bodice had floral gold embroidery which was echoed along the hemline of her skirt and in a gold belt at her waist. She looked very expensive and rich in the fine craftsmanship of the gown, which was Gabriella's intention. If she could not wear a dress for mourning, that she was determined to show the wealth of Spain to impress upon the French that she was superior. After all, had not Spain been the first civilized country thus far to discover new lands and riches in gold and spices in the New World? Was not Spain a bountiful kingdom with great power, for if not, why would King Francis be so eager for an alliance and her handsome dowry?

The King's Advisor and the Royal Chancellor approached the Princess and bowed to her. Claude, the Chancellor, smiled to the princess and greeted her warmly in Spanish, "A most gracious welcome to the Kingdom of France, Your Highness! We sincerely hope that you will come to love and accept her as she already does you!"

Gabriella smiled, "Thank you, Sir. I hope so as well, but time shall see."

Claude was a little taken aback, he expected the princess to warmly embrace France just as the country was warmly accepting of her. He tried not to show his faltering as he continued, "The servants here," and he indicated them waiting off to the side, "will assist in unpacking your things. And Antoine and I," he waved his right hand to the man at his side, the King's Advisor, "will show you to your rooms. If you would please follow us, Your Highness." He smiled kindly. He was older with a little gray in his hair already, so that he had a paternal air about him, which was warm and assuring.

The men led the Princess into the palace and what seemed like an endless maze down corridors, through great rooms, and up staircases. Even up the open double helix staircase that is a central masterpiece of architectural design and rumored to have been designed by Leonardo Da Vinci. The two helices were designed to flow up the three stories without ever touching so that while people could meet on the staircase they could not see each other; a true marvel of design. All the while, Gabriella took in the paintings in their gilded frames, the fine carpets and hardwood floors, and though most rooms appeared stark in furnishings and designs compared to what she was used to, there was a quiet elegance in the atmosphere.

Finally they arrived at her rooms, opening the double doors to find a short young girl standing in the middle of the room. She wore a rough linen dress of pale blue with a black laced bodice and white chemise and apron. She appeared to be about sixteen years of age, lean build, and soft beauty. Her blonde hair was pulled back by a white kerchief and she stared at the floor as if deeply focused on the carpet pattern.

Gabriella noted the red curtains at the windows, the white stone fireplace opposite the four post bed which was neatly made with pink sheets and a red blanket. A nightstand was to the right of the bed upon which stood a candle in its holder. A small bureau was by the window upon which was a ceramic vase of red roses. It was charming, she admitted to herself, but nowhere near the luxury had her rooms at home been. She sadly had to remind herself that this was her home now and her new standard of luxury and comfort.

Antoine stepped into the room after Gabriella and Claude and he indicated the young French girl. "Princess Gabriella, this young girl is Esmée Favre. She will be your maid and will fulfill your every need. Soon you will be assigned Ladies in Waiting who will then assist with your dressing and other personal needs as well as companionship. Until then Esmée will fill in and after then she will still be your personal maid to run your errands, clean your rooms, bring you meals, and anything else you wish her to do."

Antoine did not know Spanish and he was a firm believer in speaking the native tongue of his own country; not catering to foreigners. So Claude had interpreted for Gabriella, knowing that her French skills were limited and feeling more sympathy for the Princess than Antoine in allowing her time to adjust before demanding she assimilate.

Upon the introduction, Esmée curtsied, "Pleasure to meet you Your Highness. Welcome to France."

Of course the girl spoke in French, and Gabriella could not understand all she said since her French was not yet fluent. But she knew enough to say thank you anyway. "Merci." She would be relying a lot on Claude's interpretation skills until she knew the language better. Now that she was here, she wished she had listened to her mother and had paid more attention during her tutor's French language lessons.

Just then the servants from out in the courtyard began arriving with her trunks. They did not open and place her things away, which would be Esmée's job.

"Good your things are arriving promptly." Claude acknowledged the new activity in the room, which included a sitting room just off the bedroom as well. "We will leave you to settle in, Your Highness. The King and Queen request your presence in the Throne Room in an hour to welcome you and introduce you to your betrothed, Prince Henri. I will come back in an hour's time to escort you."

"Thank you, Sirs." Gabriella nodded to Claude and Antoine as they left the room.

Esmée seemed a little intimidated by the Spanish princess and continued to stand in the middle of the room, staring at the floor. Gabriella looked at her, "Esmée…" She said to get her attention and when the girl looked up, she waved at the trunks and raised her eyebrow. "Eh bien, mettre mes affaires!" It seemed in any language Gabriella was good at giving orders.

She went to sit down on her bed. She unpinned her hat and placed it on the table by the bed and then swung her legs over and lay back against the pillows, closing her eyes. She let out a deep sigh, trying to relax. Opening her eyes to see her new rooms and the little French girl scurrying around placing Gabriella's belongings away, it finally sunk in how real this marriage was. How inescapable it really was… that any chance of a life with Alejandro was truly no longer possible.

Another thought terrified her: in an hour she was to meet the man she was to marry! A man she had already decided to despise. But now that she was here, faced with all the unknown and her only close link to it was her betrothed… she now wished that he was a kind man, willing to care for her. She could not hope that he would love her, just as she could not hope to love him. Her heart was taken and always would be. But since there was no way out of this arrangement, she silently hoped that at least there would be mutual friendship.

* * *

Thank you all for reading! I will try to update again soon- Please remember to review! Merci


End file.
